


Soulmate Drabbles: The Fall of Shield  Doom/Darcy Part 1

by LostMyMarbles



Series: Soulmate Drabbles: Doom/Darcy [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Actual reason why nobody called Tony during the Fall, Avengers - Freeform, Betrayal, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Darcy is not stupid, Don't touch Doom's stuff, Don't touch Tony's stuff, Doom is pissed, Drabbles, F/M, I will try to be as fair as I can, I'm not kidding slow burn, Let's avoid Civil War, Let's give Tony new playmates, Mutual Pining, Phil lives!, Phil's not an idiot!, Pining, Shield reaps what it has sown, Slow Burn, Soulbonds, Soulmates, Taking Things Slow, The fall of SHIELD, but really, he's a totalitarian ruler, some Cap bashing, this is part 1, tony's not happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:13:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26232481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostMyMarbles/pseuds/LostMyMarbles
Summary: Basically what it says on the tin.  These are soulmate drabbles based around Victor Von Doom and Darcy Lewis during the Fall of Shield in Captain America: The Winter Soldier.This is only Part One.  I have begun Part Two but I will not post it until it is done.SLOW SLOW SLOW SLOW burn.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Victor von Doom, Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Series: Soulmate Drabbles: Doom/Darcy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905325
Comments: 7
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

The warehouse-turned-lab was hot enough that Darcy’s hair had frizzed in the first ten minutes they’d gotten there, and one lock, one in particular, kept falling into her face. She sighed, flicked it up, and went back to work transcribing Jane’s notes. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ian looking down at his phone as hers buzzed with a notification from the Reuters app. She glanced over, saw “Captain America” in the headline and picked it up. She dropped it again a second later, the feeling of cold metal at her temple.

“Out of the darkness and into the light,” Ian said, just behind her and to her left, and she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move, couldn’t think, what, Ian, what -- “Listen, Darce. This doesn’t have to get ugly. Just save the work you already have on the laptop and pack up the notes, we’ll get Foster into the SUV and be gone.”

“Ian?” Her voice was breathy and horrible, she couldn’t -- “Ian, what’s going on?”

“Just do what you’re told, Darcy,” Ian said, his tone firm, not quite harsh. “You’re not an idiot. You want to live.” 

She reached forward, saved the document, and shut the laptop. Janie. Have to keep Janie safe. Make him think you’re cooperating, Darce. Just play along. Still, her fear made her clumsy as she gathered the notebooks and printouts around the office area. He stayed right with her, watching her every move, and she could see the gun, oh God, he was serious. She had made out with him last night, they hadn’t fucked yet but -- “Why, Ian? What -- I don’t understand,” she said, looking up at him through that same lock of hair that had irritated her earlier.

“Of course you don’t,” Ian smirked, and she had to fight back the wave of anger that rose in her; not now, not now. Let him get complacent. He already underestimates you. “You were never supposed to. You saw exactly what you were supposed to see. But the time for hiding is over now; Rogers forced our hand. Don’t worry; Foster’s important to the cause, and you will make an excellent impetus for her to continue her work.” The smirk turned into a sneer, and he gestured. “Go get her. She listens to you. Nobody knows why, but she does.”

She swallowed, her throat dry, and took four steps forward, toward the door to the lab proper. Janie was in there. Janie and Erik. And they didn’t know -- hell, she didn’t know what was going on, she just knew that Ian wasn’t Ian, that things were wrong. _“Sh'ma Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Echad. Baruch Shem k'vod malchuto l'olam va'ed,_ ” she whispered. Hear, O Israel; the Lord our God is One. Let my death be an atonement for my life, and if at all possible, let Janie and Erik get out of this, she thought, and fell to her knees.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Ian grumbled behind her, and came around to her right, bending and awkwardly reaching for her with his left hand. This was likely the best chance she would get. She gripped the laptop and swung it up and into his throat with all the strength she could muster, scrambling to her feet as he fell backwards, gasping for breath but still bringing his gun to bear on her. Just behind him, a green rimmed circle appeared, small at first but then enlarging, an odd figure on the other side -- oh fuck that was Doctor Doom.

She stumbled backwards as Doom stepped through the portal, raising his left hand toward Ian and crushing it into a fist; with a strangled cry, Ian fell to his knees, and Doom was upon him, pulling his head backwards and forcing his mouth open. A moment later, he threw something small away. “Serpent,” he hissed, pulling Ian back up, the gun clattering to the concrete floor. “Show your truth, by Nibiru’s Shadow.”

Ian squirmed in his grasp, his mouth working -- and then -- “Hail Hydra,” fell from his lips.

With a snap of Doom’s fingers, he was bound in what looked like living snakes to Darcy, the bonds writhing around the man who had so recently held her at gunpoint; she couldn’t say as she minded. Doom let him drop again, and turned his attention toward Darcy, dark eyes visible through the slits in his mask. He stayed where he was, however. “Miss Lewis, I presume?”

Shock ran through her for the second time, and she felt her mouth fall open. “Yeah. Yeah. Darcy Anna Lewis, that’s me. Was -- he was HYDRA?” Doom inclined his head. “You knew?”

“I did not know who it was, but I knew that, at some point, my soulmate would come across the Serpent,” he said, still staying back from her. “May I offer my assistance? Sanctuary at Castle Doom? HYDRA dares not step over Latverian borders, Miss Lewis.”

“I -- yes? Please? But -- I -- “ she dared to turn her head toward the door to the labs. “I can’t leave Janie and Erik, I can’t --“

“Doctors Foster and Selvig would also be welcomed. I find their work intricately interesting.” Oh. “And once -- have you seen the news?”

“No,” she replied. “What happened?”

“HYDRA has come out from under their rock. Even now, Captain America is fighting them in Washington, D.C. Please, go collect the good doctors. I do not know how much time we will have before this pustulent dog’s superiors expected him to check in, and I would prefer that my presence and interference remain unknown.”

“Um. Okay,” she agreed, and somehow pried her fingers from the laptop, heading for the door. She paused there, just for a moment, and looked over her shoulder. “I -- I don’t -- thank you. You -- thank you.”

The next few minutes were a blur to her later. Between the shock of Ian’s being HYDRA, the adrenaline rush first from fighting him and from her words being said, of finding out that her soulmate was Doctor Doom, for God’s sake, she never remembered what she said to get Janie and Erik to come with her, but something must have really gotten their attention, because it wasn’t long until the three of them were following Doom, Ian slung over one of his shoulders, through the green portal and into what had to be the throne room of Castle Doom.


	2. Chapter 2

Half a dozen -- were they clones? -- copies of Doctor Doom surrounded them as the portal behind them disappeared, and the man himself handed Ian off to one of them with imperious orders, spoken in a language Darcy didn’t recognize. The other Doom bowed, picked Ian up, and started towards a door toward the back of the long gallery.

“What’s happening to him?” Erik Selvig asked, pushing himself in front of Darcy and Jane. “What’s going on? Darcy wasn’t clear.”

“My apologies, Dr. Selvig, Dr. Foster. Mr. Boothby is to be held in custody as a HYDRA agent. “

Doctor Doom gestured, and three more of the copies came closer. “These are my robots; they are at your disposal. They all know and speak English, and will assist you in whatever needs you may have. Please remain inside for now. The castle is large; please listen to your guides.”

“We are your guests,” Erik said, nodding. “Of course we agree.”

“Thank you. I am afraid I will be dreadfully busy for the next few hours, but whatever you desire, food, books, computer access for news, your guides will provide, and rooms are being prepared for you even now.”

That was a dismissal, obviously, but Darcy lingered another moment. “I -- I guess Lord Protector?” She ventured, using Doctor Doom’s official title. “When…I’m sure you have a great deal to do with HYDRA reappearing. But when you have a moment…”

“When the threat is lessened, Miss Lewis, we shall speak privately,” he assured her. 

“Um. Sure. Good -- good luck, stay safe, okay?” Damned if she was going to let her soulmate, who had just saved her life, go off and do probably at least semi-heroic stuff without at least her good wishes.

“Thank you. I shall.”

Their guards, guides, whatever, spoke with computerized voices. They didn’t seem to have any problem with the three of them being together, so that was a plus. They were led to what looked like to Darcy as the common area of a hotel suite, where Darcy immediately grabbed her phone out of her purse and pulled up her Reuters app. “What’s the wi-fi password?” She asked her robot pal.

“CynthiaShallBeSaved,” came the answer, and while that made Darcy wonder what was up with that, she wasn’t going to pay roaming charges if she could help it.

The other two did the same, adding the wi-fi before pulling up, in Jane’s case, NPR, and Erik’s, BBCNews. They watched video clips of what was going on in Washington in slowly rising horror for the next half-hour or so before Jane put her phone down, shaking her head. “This is…this is insane.”

“It’s pretty wild,” Darcy agreed. “You should probably email Dr. Stark and let him know we’re okay; I don’t know if I’d let him know where we are, though.”

“Right,” Jane sighed before leaning forward and looking at Darcy. “So why did Doctor Doom save us again?” 

Oh boy. Time to face the music. “So. Um. Ian pulled a gun on me,” she began. “Told me to gather up the notes and stuff, then to get both of you. I don’t know why, exactly; he said you were important to the cause. I stalled as long as I could…” tears came to her eyes, remembering the dread she’d felt; she had been sure she would die. “I started to fight back, and then…then Doctor Doom showed up in his portal, and he disarmed Ian, tied him up.” Deep breath. “Then he said my words.”

Jane sat very, very still, but Erik made up for it, reaching for Darcy’s hand. “Darcy. Are you sure? Are you certain?”

“My words are pretty distinctive,” she sighed. “Yes. He said my words.” Erik squeezed her hand gently, gave her a small half-smile.

“Well, we must be grateful,” he said after a moment. “Without his arrival, we would likely all be dead or in HYDRA custody.”

“Almost definitely,” Darcy whispered. She had been resigned to death in the lab office, not ready for it; she was only twenty-six, she had a lot of living yet to do.

Several human servants in livery of green and silver brought them two tray services, one of a fragrant, steaming tea, the other of a robust dark coffee blend, and another tray of fruit and light sandwiches, thick slices of toast and creamy butter, a variety of jams and clotted cream and scones. When they left, one of the robots spoke. “The Lord Protector sends his regards, and his regrets that he cannot join you for tea. He hopes to have all in hand with his allies, as well as have more information for you, very soon.”

“That…sounds great,” Jane said, obviously at a loss; she looked at Darcy and Erik with pleading eyes.

“Please inform the Lord Protector that we are grateful for his hospitality, and look forward to speaking with him at his convenience,” Erik replied. The robot bowed, and started to leave the room.

“Um, excuse me?” Darcy spoke up; may as well get started. The robot stopped and faced her. “The Lord Protector said that you could bring us books?”

“Of course. What would you like, Lady Lewis?”

“Are there any English-language Latverian histories?”

“There are. I will bring them to you shortly.”

“You’re thinking about this?” Jane asked after the robot left the room, and Darcy sighed.

“I have to. Whether…whether he and I become something to each other more than just…words on skin… or not, we are connected, and now that I know he’s my soulmate? I owe it to him -- Jane -- Jane, he knew my name. I have to guess he’s been watching over me for a while now, probably at least since New Mexico. I at least owe him the courtesy of learning what I can about him and his country.”

“He’s Doctor Doom, Darcy.”

“He’s also my soulmate. Which means there’s something in me that clicks with something in him, and something in him that clicks with something in me. I’m not saying I’m going to become…fuck, what would it be? Lady Consort? Tomorrow or anything. I’m saying that it only makes sense, and it’s only courteous and fair, to…” she shrugged. “To learn. And give him a chance, maybe.” She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Not like I’ve been doing so great at choosing for myself anyway,” she said, thinking of Ian, and his betrayal of the three of them.

“No one could have known that,” Erik spoke up then, reaching over to pat Darcy’s hand. “I did not suspect it. Jane did not. No one blames you for that, Darcy.”

“No, no, don’t think that I think that, Darcy, I don’t,” Jane agreed. “I just -- he’s Doctor Doom.”

“Who just saved all three of us,” Erik pointed out. “It would have been simpler for him to only take Darcy with him. Instead, here we are.”

“That’s true,” Jane mused. “You’ll be careful?”

“Careful isn’t even the word,” Darcy agreed. “Now, somebody pass me the scones, I’m starving.”


	3. Chapter 3

The robots were unfailingly courteous, offering to escort Jane and Erik to the roof of Castle Doom to allow them to study the stars from Latveria; that was certainly Doom’s idea, and Darcy thought it brilliant. The two were already beginning to get antsy. “We were not expecting your presence, and so we have no Cherenkov or infrared telescopes here at the castle, but what we do have is at your disposal. The Lord Protector is most interested in your work, and thinks it essential for Earth to make itself known amongst the galactic civilizations.”

That left Darcy to her reading, and that reading was more than slightly sycophantic. Lord Doom was the best thing that had happened to Latveria since creation, Lord Doom was a god among men, Lord Doom was amazing and brilliant and worked tirelessly to ensure the safety and prosperity of his people. She knew propaganda when she read it, and this was blatant. Still, it gave her a tiny idea of what the country was like, at least. She would have to learn more about her soulmate, if she could, from the internet, at least for now.

He didn’t send for her to attend him, as she had thought he would; no, instead he came himself the fourth morning, along with the robots. “It is a lovely spring morning,” he began. “Would the three of you care to join me for breakfast on the south terrace?”

“That sounds great,” Jane said after looking to Erik and Darcy, and the three followed their host out of the room. Erik wound up in front of both the women again, said women sharing a fond yet exasperated glance; it was a sweet gesture, but really unnecessary. Still, they didn’t complain.

The terrace was at least four stories high, and looked out over Doomstadt; it wasn’t exactly a modern city, though one could see some buildings that were new. No, it really reminded Darcy of the two days she’d had back in sophomore year to explore Prague. She had adored the Old City, and this reminded her of it. Or maybe Stari Grad in Belgrade. Some of the architecture was probably from the fifteenth or maybe even the fourteenth centuries, with colorful rooftops, oranges, reds, blues and greens, lightening the mood from the gray and off-white stone buildings below them.

The long trestle table was covered in breakfast foods; pastries, muffins, sausages and bacon, sautéed mushrooms, fried potatoes, a servant stood off to the side with an omelette pan beside a gas burner. She smiled at them as she made an obedient curtsy to Doom as he approached. Darcy waited for him to reach his seat at the head of the table, watched where Erik and Jane were going, both to his left, and swallowed, crossing her fingers before going to the empty seat to his right. He pulled out her chair for her, helped her settle in.

“I hope your stay has been pleasant?” Doom began the conversation as the robots started passing platters about, and pouring juices and coffees.

“Your hospitality and courtesy has been amazing, Lord Protector,” Erik said. “We are very appreciative. In fact, Jane and I have been discussing how we could possibly repay your kindness.”

“It is never a trouble to be courteous to fellow scientists. I read the paper you jointly published last year. Tremendous work. There are a few issues with the possibilities of an actual working Einstein-Rosen Bridge, but you have the theory wrapped up quite neatly.”

“What issues?” Jane asked, leaning forward as Doom accepted a goblet of juice.

“The first is, of course, how could one be sure that whatever is on the other side of the wormhole is conducive to human life. The second, whether there is intelligent life already there, and communication issues. The third is the possibility of opening up wormholes into alternative universes. I understand that you have some information from Asgard, but not even the Asgardians have explored the entirety of our galaxy. And that is before the practical issues; powering such a creation, for example, and keeping it stable.”

“Those are problems,” Jane agreed. “The answer to your first and second questions is remote controlled probes, to begin with. The answer to the last, keeping it stable…that’s something we have to learn how to do, but we can’t learn it until we actually build one. So there’s one conundrum. As for punching a hole between universes…” she sighed. “That’s a possibility we can’t prepare for. Is it possible? Yes. Probable? Meh.” She waved her hand back and forth. “We simply don’t have the data to extrapolate yet.”

“I am glad you have at least considered the possibility,” Doom said.

“Oh, yes. I do lean toward the multiverse theory myself, I just…how do you know?” Jane shrugged. “Do I want to do that? Absolutely not. First because of the ripple effect it would have throughout the multiverse. Second, because I really think that would -- it’s tearing a hole in reality itself. I don’t want to be known as Doctor Jane Foster, the Destroyer of the Universe.”

“No one wishes to be known as such,” Doom replied, his shoulders sagging. “If I can be of any assistance, I would be happy to do so. Checking maths, discussing theory…”

“A fresh perspective is always welcome,” Jane said. “And I’m not stingy with my publishing credits. Just ask Darce.”

He didn’t look at her, but his body language shifted incrementally. “I saw that you credited Miss Lewis in…not last year’s paper. The one before.”

“I could not -- we could not get half what we get done, done, without Darcy. She keeps us organized, she transcribes our notes…she keeps us fed and watered,” Jane joked. 

“And sleep. She makes you sleep, which is something I have never been able to do,” Erik pointed out.

“So yes, Darcy is invaluable.”

“I’m going to remind you of that the next time you try to ignore me,” Darcy grinned across the table at Jane, who laughed.

“Fair play,” she agreed. “But honestly, Lord Protector, while I am…protective…of my work, I do know the value of sharing knowledge.”

“You should be protective,” Doom agreed. “The power of an Einstein-Rosen Bridge could be an infinitely destructive weapon, Doctor Foster, and while I do not believe you are one prone to such misuse, that is likely why HYDRA targeted you and your colleagues. Much like Stark’s Arc Reactors, if weaponized? The impact could be devastating.”

“Ye-es,” Jane drew out the word, her eyebrows drawing together as she thought about it. “Yes, most likely. Not something I like thinking about, but it’s possible.”

“And I know it does not show me in a favorable light to point that out,” Doom replied. “But I must. As one who has been…embroiled…in power plays across the world and galaxy, I can tell you that very few civilizations I have come across have mastered the theory as well as the energy sources; Asgard is one, but there are a few others. And I have seen the aftermath of the weapon.”

“I don’t…I really don’t want to ask,” Jane said quietly, and Doom shook his head, looking down into his goblet.

“It was not something anyone, no matter how cruel, should endure. And because I have seen it, seen planets the size of Jupiter and larger, once verdant and bountiful, turned into blistered cinders floating in space, I assure you, Doctor Foster, I would not use it against a people or a planet. There are two intergalactic entities, almost gods, that I admit I would think about using it as a very last resort; both are fiercely destructive, almost infinitely powerful.”

“I hope your work with your allies was constructive?” Erik spoke up after a few moments of bleak silence, and as clumsy as the change of subject was, it did the trick; Doom looked up at him, anyway, his shoulders and body language shifting into something a bit more confident, rather than the way he had sort of drawn into himself in the armor.

“It was,” he agreed. “The Lady Sablinova of Symkaria and her Wild Pack, accompanied by a SEAL team, took custody of the HYDRA mole at the border of Symkaria and Latveria yesterday evening.”

“So the American Ambassador to Symkaria knows we’re here?” Jane asked, and Doom nodded.

“As well as the British and Norwegian; I know you hold dual citizenship, Doctor Foster, and thought it best to inform both your countries that you, Doctor Selvig, and the Lady Lewis were perfectly safe in asylum in Latveria, until the threat could be completely contained. It is not yet over; soon, I hope, from my discussions with my ambassadors to the United States and the United Nations, but not quite yet. I apologize for any heavy-handedness, but better safe than sorry.” 

“And if they had already embedded themselves into our lives once…”

“HYDRA likely has agents within every government,” Doom sighed, leaning back into his chair. “They have no influence and no sphere of power here. I cannot say as to the United Kingdom or the United States, whether you would be safe if you were to return today. If you wish to leave, you may; it is at least somewhat safer, but I judge the threat not yet past. When it is, rest assured, I will personally escort you back to your laboratory, just as we left it.”

“Ugh, we’re going to be questioned,” Darcy sighed, dropping the piece of toast she had been tearing into pieces. “MI-5 or MI-6 this time, Janey?”

“I’m hoping for MI-6; at least M is usually polite,” Jane shrugged. “SHIELD can kiss my ass this time, though.”

“Oh, don’t remind me,” Darcy groaned. “Not looking forward to that.”

“Have you often been detained by government agencies, then?” Doom asked Darcy, and she snorted before picking up her coffee cup and taking a sip.

“Since Thor? We’ve been interrogated eight times. Detained four, had Janie’s research taken twice. Stark intervened the last time.”

“And the first?” He pressed, and Darcy suppressed a giggle, remembering Thor’s insistence to Coulson that the research be returned to Jane.

“The Crown Prince of Asgard made clear that he would be most displeased if SHIELD did not return all of Jane’s research immediately. We got lucky; Coulson offered us a place with SHIELD, and we took that to begin with, but after the Battle of London, Stark called us and made us an offer we absolutely could not refuse. I’ll email SI Legal and R&D later, that’ll make this time go at least a little easier.”

“Doctor Stark is likely a magnificent benefactor,” he said, and damn if she didn’t hear just a shade of jealousy in his voice.

“Stark Industries R&D pays for our lab space, our equipment, our living expenses. It’s a good deal, and Janie has co-ownership on her patents. That’s important,” Darcy began. “Doctor Stark recognizes how important her work is, just like you do. We’ve only met Doctor Stark twice, and both times were right after the Convergence, when he was helping with the aftermath. Once to work out the details of the deal, once to sign on the dotted line.”

“Doctor Stark is a polymath in his own right,” Doom said. “And a very good ally to have, I would assume.”

“Oh -- are you guys -- “ Darcy began, and Doom made some noise, not quite a snort.

“We are not on the best of terms, but I hold no enmity toward him personally. He has never done anything to earn it.” 

Unlike others, Darcy supposed. She took a deep breath; now or never. “Are you going to be free today?” She asked, and he inclined his head.

“I will be free to meet with you this afternoon.”

“Great.”


	4. Chapter 4

He waited for her in a courtyard, rather than having her come to the throne room. Her heart thudded hard and heavy in her chest, her palms were clammy, and she tried, oh, she tried, to hide her anxiety behind a pleasant smile, but she was sure he saw right through it. “Would you like a glass of wine?” He offered, and she accepted, the red liquid slightly sweet, and perfectly chilled.

“So,” she began, taking a seat on the stone bench and taking a larger sip of wine. “How disappointed are you?”

“I’m sorry?” He asked, cocking his head.

“Well, I’m sure you wanted a princess or -- or somebody with powers or something, and I’m just…I’m just a Jewish girl from Pennsylvania,” she said, a nervous, harsh giggle escaping her despite herself. “I mean, we can come up with something, I’m sure, for a reason why you saved us -- Jane’s important, her work’s important, that should be enough so that you don’t have to mention…you know.”

“I believe we are at cross purposes,” he said, his arms falling from across his chest. “I had been under the impression that…that my reputation preceded me.”

“Well, I mean, sure, you’re Doctor Doom,” she said, waving her free hand. “You’re also the totalitarian ruler of an Eastern European country. You need a princess or something, at least someone who’s…I don’t know, able to keep up with you.”

“You keep up with Doctors Foster and Selvig, Lady Lewis, I have no doubt that you are able to hold your own in a conversation with me.” His cape ruffled a bit in the breeze. “I have watched you, you know.”

“I kind of figured that.”

“You are more than a man with my sins deserves.”

Her jaw dropped.

“I’m sorry?” She said once she was able to collect herself. “I’m just --“

“You are intelligent, beautiful, brave, and kind,” he went on, taking a single step toward her. “I am a selfish, megalomaniacal dictator with a penchant for vengeful retribution.”

“Well, okay, nice to know we’re being completely truthful today,” she said, blinking at the harshness of his words.

“I have nothing to offer a woman such as yourself. A throne, money, power, certainly. But I do not think such things would keep you.”

“Lord Protector --“

“Victor, please.”

“Victor,” she acquiesced. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” he said simply. “I only know that…I watched you. I tried not to. I tried to convince myself that keeping you safe would be enough. I tried to convince myself that I did not need the soulmark, that you and I were too different, the age difference alone was more than enough to keep from ever speaking with you. But then I almost lost any chance at all, and I could not --“ he paused, looking down at the stone and his booted feet. “I cannot live with myself if I do not try, Lady Lewis.”

“Darcy,” she said. “I’m Darcy, and you’re Victor, and there’s a lot of stuff in our way.“

“I’m sixteen years your senior, and I am a wretched excuse of a man,” he said quietly. “And I do not know if I can change. I do not know if I can be the man worthy of such a brave, bright spirit.”

“If that’s the only reason you want to change, is to try to impress me? Then no. You can’t. It’s like alcoholism or drug addiction, you can’t change for somebody else. It has to be what you want.”

“Power is an addiction all of its own,” he seemed to agree with her. “One I have known for decades. But -- you do not know, you have read only the more recent histories. Latveria was a small, bankrupt country when I ascended the throne. We did not even have a decent hospital. And now? Our GDP is rising steadily each year, our loans to the IMF and the World Bank paid in full. And I did that, Darcy. No other man could have, no legislature would have agreed to terms to do so in such a short time.”

“But what has it cost you?” She asked softly. “Do your people love you, or fear you? Do your allies trust you? Have you had a moment’s peace since the day you became Doctor Doom, Victor? Since you became Lord Protector?”

“The cost has been great,” he conceded. “A personal cost, you understand. I will not allow harm to come to my people if I can help it.”

“You can’t always.”

“But only I can keep the Bear from our borders. If I were to step down, Putin would overrun us as surely as winter comes.”

“I didn’t say step down,” she sighed, and stood, well within his reach. “Are you happy, Victor? Are you truly happy?”

“Happiness is fleeting.”

“It is; that’s why you’re supposed to enjoy it while it’s there,” she said. “I don’t know what to say; I don’t think I’m the person you need me to be, and I don’t think you’re the person I need yet, either.”

“No,” he said, his voice rough with some emotion; not anger. Perhaps sorrow. She couldn’t tell; she didn’t know him well enough. “Nor do I, on either count.”

“But we are still alive, still growing, still able to make choices; maybe we’ll both be what the other needs in the future. Maybe we should…take our time. Get to know one another. And when the time comes…”

“If the time comes.”

“When the time comes,” she huffed, “we’ll be ready.”

“You are young, and have faith yet in Fate, in the future, and in yourself,” he said, and reached out, tucking that lock of hair that kept springing in front of her face behind her ear. “You asked me what I want; turnabout. What do you want?”

“Several things,” she said after a moment. “I want to know you, so I can understand you. I want to understand you, so I can understand the choices you make and the choices you’ve already made. I want to be the woman you seem to think I am, because apparently she’s a goddess. Other than that…” she shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know whether I want to…” she swallowed. “I’m not ready to get married, Victor. I’m sorry. I’m not ready for…for the responsibility it would be to be your wife, especially while you are Lord Protector.”

“You are only twenty-six, and we have only just met; I wasn’t going to propose until Christmas, at least.” She jerked at that, and he chuckled again. “I am joking, Darcy. Because I am not ready to take such a step, either.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” she grinned. “So, take it glacier slow, getting to know you, the whole Rodgers and Hammerstein bit?”

“Indeed. Getting to like you, getting to hope you like me.” She could hear him smiling behind his mask, and she giggled, she couldn’t help herself.

“Shall we dance, Lord Protector?”

“Can you?”

“Hey, I had three falls of dance classes in the basement of Temple Beth-Zion,” she laughed. “Came in third place my last year at the inter-synagogue competition.” He didn’t say anything at all, but stretched out his gloved hand, and she was just reaching to take it, when someone called from the side in Latverian. His head jerked toward the interloper, and he shouted back, brusque and obviously annoyed at the interruption. Whatever the answer was, his hand dropped, and he said something else, likely something rude, from the tone.

“We will continue this later, Darcy, I promise.”

“Okay --“ she began, and he interrupted.

“I apologize, but apparently there is a situation which I must see to. Please -- you and the doctors have the run of the castle, all but my personal spaces and that which is top secret. Do not feel you must secrete yourselves in your rooms or the library.” He stepped closer to her, took her hand and turned her wrist toward himself as he bent over it; she could feel his breath on her pulse, oh fuck that was intimate, that was -- fuuuuck --

“Until later, my dear.”

And then he was stalking off, cloak whipping around his shoulders as he barked out what had to be orders or maybe he was chewing the dude who’d interrupted them out; either way, the guy shrank back as he approached the doorway, and her robot friend came to life nearby.

“Lord Doom would have great joy in your finishing your wine, I am sure, Lady Lewis.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, tracing her wrist with her fingers, goosebumps still prickling up from his goodbye. “I will. Thanks, buddy.”

“It is my pleasure to please you, Lady Lewis.”

Her eyes narrowed, just a bit, as she picked up her goblet. Hmm. That might be interesting.

“Hey, Bud. How long has he known about me?” She asked, sipping from her goblet and taking her seat in the sunshine once more; the air was so clean and clear, and the city of Doomstadt below was a lovely view.

“Lord Doom has known who you were since shortly after the arrival of Prince Thor, Lady Lewis.” 

“Do you know why he hasn’t ever come or tried to meet me before, Buddy?” She asked, and the robot paused before it answered her.

“I am afraid I do not have all of the requisite data to answer your query, Lady.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” A robot wouldn’t know that, would it? That had to do with emotions, and she thought that Victor didn’t deal in those very much, so he didn’t try to program them into his ‘bots. He was lonely. She had seen it, heard it, it had all but overwhelmed her. And she thought, maybe, that he was also afraid. Probably just as afraid as she had been. Because okay, she was a Jewish Philly girl, and that came with its own fears and insecurities, but as he’d said, he had a reputation to overcome. A fearsome one.


	5. Chapter 5

“I give you my word as a gentleman and a ruler, Mr. Stark, that the good doctors and Miss Lewis are perfectly safe,” he said, looking up at the viewscreen of the man in the hospital bed, almost as pale as his sheets. “I can send you a live video feed, if you like, of wherever they currently are in the castle.”

“Yeah, do that.” Exhaustion threaded through the words, as harsh as they were; why was Mr. Stark in a hospital bed? What was going on? “Sorry I can’t just take your word for it, but Foster’s kind of important for inter-galactic relations, and,” he bared his teeth at Victor, “They’re MINE. And I don’t like sharing my toys.”

“You would be sharing them with Hydra had I not intervened,” Victor snapped. “I arrived just as the agent was about to harm Miss Lewis --“

“Fucking --“

“-- and while she was fighting, I doubt that she could have overcome a trained Hydra agent without outside assistance.”

“Fuck.” Stark sank back on the bed, lifted a shaking hand to his brow. “I’m -- “

“If you would like to speak with them yourself, I can make those arrangements.”

“Yeah,” Stark sighed, his eyes closed. “Yeah, please, I just -- trying to do what I can, and…”

“It is what I believe the armed forces of every country describe as a clusterfuck,” Victor said, startling Stark into a pained chuckle. “If you will give me one moment, you will be viewing the good doctors and Miss Lewis…now.”  
Live feeds from the robot guards’ eye cameras appeared on the side of his screen, showing Doctors Foster and Selvig on the top of Castle Doom, setting up the telescopes for the evening, and Darcy, still in the courtyard, looking down over Doomstadt. “They cannot see you, Mr. Stark, but they can hear and speak to both of us.”

“Awesome, thanks, Von Doom. I owe you one,” Stark said softly before he spoke up. “Hey hey, it’s the brain trust and Darcee-Dee-Two, what’s up, guys?” The weariness in his voice disappeared as he sat up again, apparently looking at his screen as the people in question turned to face their robots.

“Doctor Stark?” The question came from three voices at once, and Victor sat back to watch and listen to the conversation, wondering if any of them would reveal the true reason he had intervened; he didn’t know how he felt about that.

“Hey. How’s the beaches, Peaches?”

“Hanging ten, but it was almost a wipeout before the lifeguard showed,” Darcy replied in the shitty code, they were all fine, but things had almost been bad before their extraction. Tears rose to her eyes as the worry that had wrapped itself around her heart for Tony fell away. “Howsabout you, Big Kahuna?”

“Catching the swell, dollface. Hoping the other surfers on this beach are paying fucking attention, there’s an undertow.” He was okay, but he was worried about the other Avengers. “Got a wave report?” Are you guys safe?

“Everything seems funkalicious, good vibrations.” They had been treated with respect and weren’t prisoners. A sigh came over the speakers.

“Fantastic, Darce. Thanks. Doctors, O my Doctors?”

Jane and Erik both talked to Tony for a few minutes, and Darcy didn’t even try to keep up with it, other than when they talked about the lab and Victor broke in. “I have sent a few of the Latverian Embassy guard to keep an eye on your laboratory; they have not entered, but report that no one else has done so.”

“Thank you so much, Lord Protector,” came the united answer.

“It was no trouble, I assure you,” Victor began, and Tony snorted, Darcy could hear it.

“Yeah, everything else going on and you pulled manpower from the embassy? It is a big deal, and I owe you one. Listen guys, I’m gonna go solo with Doc here for a few more minutes, but as soon as it’s safe, I’m gonna get you back where you belong, okay? Already talked to M, everything should be okay when you get back.”

“Great, thanks, Doctor Stark,” Darcy said, and the other two echoed her.

“Okay. Stay safe, guys, I’ll talk to you later.”

One by one, he cut the audio and video feeds from the robots, and gave his attention back to Doctor Stark, who was laid back against his pillow again. “What news is there?” He asked, sitting back himself.

“Bad shit,” Stark said, his eyes closing in, Doom thought, weariness. “Bad, bad shit. Hydra’s been secreted within SHIELD since practically the founding. I’ve got my resources -- Jesus Christ, you would not believe the crazy shit my fucking teammates have pulled here, Doom. Ignorant, dumb shit.”

“Is the entirety of SHIELD Hydra, then?”

“No. No, that’s just it, they’re like…a nest of corn snakes and coral snakes wrapped up together, and you can’t tell one from the other until you pull it out and look,” Stark sighed. “But somebody got the bright-ass idea to dump the entirety of SHIELD’s files on the internet. I’ve been trying to catch it and lock it down, but…” a shaky hand rose and ran through already mussed hair. “They didn’t tell me,” he murmured, disbelief and anguish in his breaking voice. “They didn’t ask, they didn’t tell me…” he looked back at the camera, eyes bleak.

“There was a list. A list of what they called dangerous people. Project Insight. I’m on it. Darce, Jane, Erik, they’re on it.” He breathed in and out. “Pepper’s on it. Pepper.”

“What was it for?”

“I can’t tell,” Stark said, shaking his head. “I think…I think capture or elimination. And whose goddamn name do I see at the head of this report? Whose, can you guess? Nick. Nick fucking Fury, Nick knew about this, more, Nick approved of this shit.” He sighed. “We don’t get along, but at least I know where I stand with you.”

“Do you, Doctor Stark?” Victor asked. “I respect your innovation and your genius. I envy your easy way with people. But I do not hate you. At least, I hold no personal enmity toward you.”

“That’s…damn near a love letter from you, cool,” Stark replied, eyes wide. “Yeah. Okay, we’re not besties, won’t be making friendship bracelets, got it. But at least I can count on you being upfront with what you think, you’re not putting my fucking girlfriend on a -- on a fucking hit list!”

“No. I am not,” Victor agreed. “Can you send me the list?”

“How secure are your servers?” Stark asked, eyes going hard. “Listen, this is -- some of these are people I work with, people who really aren’t a danger to the world -- Bruce I can understand, it’s shitty but I can wrap my brain around it, but Foster? Selvig? Fuck, DARCY?”

“I assume I am on it,” Victor said, keeping his voice as steady as he could, even as the thought of Darcy being on such a document shook him.

“Oh, yeah. But you, you’re dangerous, Darcy, the most dangerous thing about her is her sarcasm,” Stark replied.

“Well.” Victor weighed the cost and benefit. “There is something else dangerous about her.”

“Vic, come on, you’re more of a gentleman than to say her…other attributes,” Stark frowned at the camera.

“No. Her soulmate, Doctor Stark, is a very dangerous man.”

“Oh, Jesus, it’s not Creed, is it? Or Logan?” Stark stopped, eyes wide.

“Her soulmate is a very dangerous man, who will go to great lengths to ensure her safety and the safety of those she cares for. Were her parents or grandparents still among the living, they, too, would be enjoying the hospitality of Castle Doom.”

“Fuuuuuck,” Stark whispered. “Okay. Okay.” His voice gained strength as he spoke. “Okay, then. I’m sending you the list. Sablinova’s on it, I’m sending it to her, too, and Xavier up in Westport. No elopements, okay, I -- what?” His attention veered from the viewscreen to someone else in the room. “They’re what? They’re WHAT?”

A muted sound of screams, of explosions. “Stark? What is it?”

“I’m surrounded by idiots,” Stark whispered. “Christ, it’s 9/11 all over again. But this time we did it.”

“Stark?”

“Listen, Doom, I’ve got to go --“

“No!” A woman’s voice shrieked shrilly. 

“Tony, no, you just had the reactor taken out, you can’t!” The woman screamed. “Lord Protector, please, tell him, please --“

“You have just had major chest surgery?” Victor intervened. “Then no, Doctor Stark. You would not survive the G-forces of the Iron Man armor. Send the armor, piloted remotely, if you must, but --“

“You’re right,” Stark admitted hoarsely. “You’re right. JARVIS. Send the Iron Legion. Search and --“ he closed his eyes. “Search and rescue. Doom, have you got anything close enough to help? I can -- huh. Maybe. Who knows right now. I’ll call the president.”

“I will send a squadron of Doombots through a portal.” He could see the devastation now on another screen. Two huge airships had crashed into Washington D.C. News crews were going mad. The devastation, the destruction…”A brigade of Latverian Special Forces for the same, and I will contact the Wild Pack. Major-General Ackanov will be in command of the Latverians. Tell Ellis to call me in ten minutes, I must muster them and prepare the portal.”

“Right. I’ll be in touch, and so will President Ellis. Iron Man out.” The screen went black, and Doom rose and began issuing commands.


	6. Chapter 6

Darcy, Erik, and Jane were in the viewing room, all together on one sofa, tissues piling in a wastebasket as they watched BBC News. “And as dawn breaks over the Potomac, the current number of confirmed casualties rises,” the anchorperson said somberly. “Countries send their condolences as well as aid to the United States.” Footage of Search and Rescue forces, as well as of the Iron Legion, Iron Man pilotless robots, and Doombots, which surprised hell out of all three of them, filled the screen, as the BBC reporter ran towards a craggy, older man in gray and black fatigues.

“Major-General Ackanov of Latverian Special Forces. Do you have any comment on Latveria’s position regarding Hydra or what we have found out in the last twenty-four hours?” The man’s dark eyes narrowed, and he looked at the camera.

“First,” he said in a heavy accent, “I know my Lord Protector sends his sorrow and his regard to the American people, along with us. I cannot speak for the Lord Protector in more than this.”

“What is Lord Doom’s position when it comes to Hydra, Major-General?” The reporter tried again, and the solder’s face scrunched into a scowl.

“I cannot speak for the Lord Protector. I am sure he or his Chamberlain will issue his own message to Hydra. I will say this, as an officer and a soldier.” He turned that scowl directly on the camera. “If my Lord Protector gives me orders to find you, to fight you? I will scour you from the face of the earth, on my Lord Protector’s orders. You are honorless cowards, and I spit upon you all.”  
The reporter had just turned back to the camera for the signoff when a portal appeared behind them and Doom stepped out.

Major-General Ackanov fell to his knee, and Doom reached out, pulled him up and into a close handshake, one hand gripping the solder’s shoulder. The microphone could not pick up whatever he said. Then he approached the reporter, who had turned around apparently at the cameraman’s urging. “Ms. Kay,” Doom began. “You wished a statement?”

“I…yes, please, Lord Protector,” the reporter stammered, and Doom nodded.

“Hydra. I do not bring a torch. I do not bring a sword. I bring the Sacred Flame of Faltine, and there is nowhere you can hide from its light, or its searing heat.”

He held up his left hand, stripped the glove from it, showing his bare hand beneath. Then spouts of flame flared up from his fingertips, perhaps a foot high into the air, before he spoke again. “Doom is a loyal ally, and has no quarrel with the United States as a country or her citizens as a whole. Hydra is a monster, and must be eradicated from the face of the earth with extreme prejudice. Latveria stands with the United States in this, and offers her sorrow for those you have lost. They will be avenged. So swears Doom.”

“Oh, that wasn’t intense as fuck or anything,” Darcy mumbled, and Janie giggled at her reaction. “Christ. He just painted “Come get some” on his back, why would he do that? Why? It’s not his fight --“

“I don’t know, but I will say that knowing Doom is on the side of the world in this makes me feel much better for our chances of success,” Erik said, reaching for the glass of water on the side table as one of the robots approached with a laptop in its grasp.

“Our guests have a call from Doctor Stark.”

Tony Stark didn’t look great. He was pale, and the shadows under and around his eyes were deep set, as if he hadn’t slept much in the last few days. He probably hadn’t; Darcy didn’t know him personally, but he was Iron Man, and he was an Avenger. He was probably burning the candle at both ends to try to figure out what was going on and fix it.

“Hey, gang. Glad to find you all together. How are you all holding up?” He asked.

“We’re okay, just…” Jane said softly. “It’s like 7/7 or 9/11 all over again.”

“Yeah,” Stark sighed. “it is, and there’s…it’s not looking great. I don’t know -- at least with 9/11, we had a target fairly quickly. In this case…not so much, and, even worse, I’m looking into some things and it’s just…not good. But that’s not why I called. Doom there?”

“No, he’s --“ But Stark was looking off camera, grinning to himself.

“No, he’s not, is he? Damn. Thought I was a ham, he’s got it worse than me. Holy fuck, how did he do the flamethrower thing? That’s badass,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“So since we think, we think, we’ve foiled the villains for now, get packed. There’ll be a StarkJet asking for permission to land at Doomstadt International in about eight hours. The call sign is Prince Ali, the password is Itty Bitty Living Space. I’ve got a personally vetted team of Stark Security outfitting your lab and living quarters right now. If I could, I’d just pack you up and move you to the Tower, but I think that’s a no-go for now. Too many people in and out of here on the daily, and things are too hectic.”

“Okay,” Jane agreed. “We have some new data from here that we can add into what we already have. We’ll be ready.”

“Great. Victor should have left orders for your car and everything. Oh. And just so everybody knows -- he’s welcome right now in any Stark property, so…” Tony glanced at Darcy, smirking, and she sighed.

“He told you?”

“He did. Mazel tov, kid.”

“We’re still discussing things.”

“Discussion is good. Boundaries are good. Soulmates are great, but you’re still you, and he’s still him, so…” he paused. “Just. Keep that in mind.”

“I will, Doctor Stark, thanks.”


	7. Chapter 7

He met with President Ellis, the new Secretary of Homeland Security, and War Machine/Iron Patriot, who was apparently acting as the President’s bodyguard during the current crisis. Platitudes, offers of aid, photo op. No press conference, not now, but a promise to meet again within a week or so to begin negotiations about sharing intelligence regarding Hydra. For now, he accepted the President’s thanks and gratitude for sending the Doombots and men to assist in rescue operations, and palmed the note that War Machine slipped him while shaking hands. He would have to look at it later.

He arrived at home two hours later, receiving the news that Stark’s jet would be in Doomstadt in a few hours and giving clearance for it to land, made arrangements to see the trio off himself, then went hunting for Darcy. He did not want her to leave without having at least one more talk of substance, more than a simple goodbye at the airport.  
He found her in, of all places, the castle kitchens, watching as Izabel rolled out dough for dumplings. Flour dusted her hands and blouse, and she seemed happy, her laughter infectious.

“Lady Lewis,” he said, getting her attention, and she gave him a brilliant smile.

“Lord Protector. I’m so glad you’re back in time. Give me two seconds, let me wash my hands?”

“Of course.” She hurried to the sink, and he glanced at Izabel. “She has been good to you?” He asked in Latverian, and Izabel snorted.

“She is adorable, but she has much to learn. You will bring her back to me.”

“I will do what I can,” he chuckled.

“Do it. She can learn, she is not stupid, for an American.”

“We will see.”

He led her to the atrium, both of them silent, and he wondered, was she as lost for words as he was? What words could, would, suffice? “I hope you have enjoyed your stay,” he began. “I am sorry I was not available to speak with you as often as I would have liked to, or to show you Doomstadt.”

“You’ve been kind of busy,” she said, looking up at the towering ceiling, its high arches glinting in the afternoon light. “I’m not mad or anything about it, I know you’ve been doing important work. I would like that, though.”

“Then next time you visit, I will show you the beauties of my city,” he said, reaching for her hand, and she let him take it. “I am sorry, Darcy.”

“Victor, I’m not mad, I promise,” she smiled up at him. “Hunting down Hydra is so much more important than anything right now. How many people have they already killed, just with the attack in D.C.? I’m not mad. We have time…and this is really, you know, this is good for us. We’re both being honest with ourselves and each other. We already agreed to get to know one another.”

“We did,” he agreed. “But I feel I have neglected you, and I apologize for that.”

“I accept your apology. Thank you. Listen, I’ll get some time off from Janie in a month or two, and I’ll come back. Or you can come see me.”

“Have you ever been to Vienna?” He asked, and she shook her head. “They say Paris is the city for lovers, but Vienna in the fall is beyond compare.”

“That sounds fantastic. I don’t speak much German, but I can practice,” she said, looking down at their intertwined hands before letting go.

She stepped away and unbuttoned her blouse. “You can’t touch. I’ll let you see it, but you can’t touch,” she warned.

“Darcy, you don’t have to,” he said, and she shook her head, sliding the left sleeve of her blouse off of her shoulder.

“I want to. I want to show you,” she insisted. “Just don’t touch.” And there, on her shoulder, was his handwriting, spiky and tall; “ _Miss Lewis, I presume?_ ”

He stopped himself before he reached for her; to touch the words -- well, he was in his armor, it might not take -- but it might.

“I cannot return the favor,” he murmured. “I am sorry.”

“You’ve got your reasons,” she shrugged, and pulled her blouse back over her shoulder. “I’m not dumb enough to think that soulmates changes that. It may never change that. Now I’m not gonna lie, that’s going to take some getting used to, and I may need some time to work through that. But we’re not the first pair that’s ever had, you know. Physical barriers.”

“No. We are not.” He had never expected such generosity, and shame flushed through him. “There are…steps I can take.”

“When we’re ready, we’ll talk about it,” she said gently. “That’s not right now. Right now, I’d really like to know why you hung a red flag in front of Hydra’s bull. Victor, you said that Latveria is free of Hydra, why would you --“

“They would have hurt you.” He couldn’t help reaching for her face, cradling her cheek in the palm of his glove. “That agent could have killed you. They are a threat to you. And I will not have that.” Gently, he stroked his thumb over her cheekbone. “Promise me you will find a therapist.”

“A therapist?” 

“You were attacked, Darcy, you were in grave danger. You were brave, but that is still a traumatic experience, and I would not have you suffer for it. You will find a therapist, and they will bill the Latverian Embassy if your insurance does not cover it.”

“It will, I’m on Stark’s payroll,” she said, her eyes closing as he caressed her. Gods and demons, but he wished he could touch her properly. “Okay. It’s a good idea, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Will you promise me something?”

“Within reason.”

“Will you be careful?”

“I shall.”

An easy promise to make. Somewhat harder to keep, but well within reason. He would be careful, and Darcy would find a therapist -- he would have one of his hacker corps check them to ensure they were not Hydra -- and it would be well. “I will miss you,” he admitted, his free hand finding hers. “I have not had the time with you I wished, but knowing you were here, and safe, was…I have no words.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” she replied, opening her eyes, sea-storm blue and lovely.

“It isn’t forever. And it is necessary.”

“Oh, be responsible, why don’t you,” she sighed, and before he could move, she was hugging him, arms wrapped around his waist, her face in his chest. “Can you even feel this?” She asked, her voice muffled, and he chuckled.

“I can. My armor is very tactile sensitive.”

“Good.” She looked up from his chest. “I need to ask you something, and I don’t want to.”

“Ask. I do not know that I can tell you, but ask.”

“What’s the deal with Sue Richards? Because I can’t compete with a ghost. I won’t.”

Ah.

“It is a long and excruciatingly personal story,” he said. “One that would take most of an evening to tell if I were able to tell it all at once, which I am not sure I can.”

“Okay…” Darcy drew out the word. “Well. This much. Give me this much. Are you still in love with her?”

“I do not think so.”

“That’s…helpful.”

“That is the best answer I can give you, Darcy. I do not think of her with anything other than a vague respect, unlike her husband.”

“Who you detest.”

“Whom I despise. Yes.”

“I can work with that,” she replied after a long moment. “I just wanted to know if I had competition.”

“No. None.”

“Then it’s all good.”

“And I? Do I have competition, Lady Lewis?” He asked, and she laughed, bitterly.

“As if you don’t know.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” he murmured, wrapping his arm over her shoulders and drawing her close again. “And it was never serious on your part, anyway.”

“No,” she sighed. “It wasn’t.” She pulled away, looking up at him again. “How do you -- how often do you watch me, anyway?”

“Four times a day,” he replied honestly.

“Four times a day?”

“When I wake, when I eat, before I sleep. Only for a moment or two, just to ensure your safety.” He paused. “I have never seen you…en dishabille. Or with a lover. I only glance, and cancel the spell.” He didn’t tell her that that was because he had never had the materiel to make the spell last longer. He had had to go to some lengths to get her hair before; now, he had enough to watch her for hours, if he so chose.

“Oh. Just for a minute or two?”

“That’s all.”

“I’m not going to lie and say that’s okay, or that I understand,” she said after a minute. “I am going to say that I’m glad you did do it, and maybe you should keep doing it a while, while Hydra’s out there. Just in case. But you have to stop eventually.”

“We will discuss it.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I have to go, don’t I?”

“Very soon now. Yes.”

“Damn it.”

“Indeed.” He did not want to let her go. He wanted to keep her here, safe in the castle, and damn Hydra and damn the rest of the world. 

But that way laid madness; she would chafe at such bonds. She was not a tame woman, nor, did he find as he stroked her hair, did he wish her to be. A tame woman could not have kept his interest these last five years, soulmark or not.  
Darcy would be a challenge. Darcy would require wooing, and attention, likely all their lives long. And he found he preferred such, something, someone, he would have to work for. A hidden smile spread beneath his mask.  
He had never been afraid of doing the work.  
He hoped she felt the same.


	8. Chapter 8

The trip back to London took an hour and a half, most of which Darcy spent going over her lists of what needed to get done when they got back. They had to take readings of the equipment that couldn’t be shut down before they left, had to check the calibrations of all the equipment, had to talk to the new security techs and learn how to use the new tech, that might take a couple days. She had to clean out the warehouse fridge and the apartment fridge, she had to go shopping…no rest for the wicked.

But she was grateful, on so many levels, that none of that seemed like too high a price to pay. She had survived. Another note -- go to Temple. She wasn’t so silly as to think that she owed God -- how do you owe the Supreme Being anything? -- but she would go and give thanks for her life and for her blessings. She needed to talk to Victor about that -- how did Latveria treat Jewish people? She didn’t know. She needed to find out, and maybe intervene if necessary, or at least try to.

And that led to her thinking about Victor, period. He was a -- well. He was the totalitarian leader of a small Eastern European country. She had read the histories her robot buddy had brought her. She knew that his word in Latveria was law. What she didn’t know was how the people viewed him. He had boasted of the improvements he had made; how had those improvements affected the everyday people of Latveria? What did they think of him? Were they afraid of him, or did they love him, the epitome of the “strongman” type of leader?

He had control issues, obviously. She didn’t know what to think about his admission of watching her, daily, since he had figured out who she was. On one hand, it was really fucking creepy, thanks. He could have -- he had had all the power there. He could have made arrangements to meet her at any time. But instead he had waited. Part of that was probably because of the words -- hers had had something about Hydra in them -- but part, she was sure, was just the control. He knew. She didn’t. And that was troubling.

This was going to have to go really, really slowly. He was absolutely charming to her, he had been sweet, he had been, she thought, truthful about Sue Richards, the little they’d spoken about her. The thing was, again, he was the totalitarian ruler of his country. If she didn’t take every precaution, she could end up a prisoner in a gilded cage. She didn’t think he’d hurt her, or throw her in the dungeons or whatever, but de facto house arrest happened in abusive relationships all the time with normal people, much less people with his kind of power.

She had been surprised at his request that she go to therapy. He obviously didn’t know that she already had a therapist; between the Destroyer and the events of the Convergence, she had decided it was imperative. And once her SI benefits had kicked in and she had seen the sweet, sweet clause including mental health care, she had damn well jumped at it. And now she had more trauma to work through with Allie. Fantastic. 

It was all going to be a lot of work, but she wasn’t afraid of hard work, never had been, especially when it was towards a goal she thought was worth it. She thought that if she could get past the metaphorical armor he had wrapped himself in, the ego that in reality was a shield for fear and insecurity, then she would be better able to make decisions. The physical armor was only a symptom for the other, for his psychological need for self-protection and security, along with his initial formality and aloofness.

That had definitely melted when he’d taken her into the atrium. He was human underneath it all, and she could tell that he wanted a safe place to -- well, to just be Victor, rather than always Lord Protector Von Doom. When they had been alone in the atrium, he had touched her and allowed her touch, and she thought he enjoyed it. But of course it was hard to tell, other than reading what body language she could. The armor and the mask hid so much, left so much to really inaccurate interpretation.

So she would be very careful, she decided. She would be very careful, she would watch for warning signs, she would figure out whether she could trust him or not. That might take a long time, and it would definitely be a lot of work, to make this relationship sound, or even to figure out if they both wanted a romantic relationship. There were platonic soulmates out there, after all, who were only very, very good friends. They’d discuss that, too, at some point, just to make clear that that was a valid choice that either of them could make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the end of Part One.
> 
> Part Two will add in more of the fallout from CA:TWS, we'll see more of Tony, Pepper, and who knows who else may make an appearance?
> 
> If you're here because you're hoping for something along the lines of Change Your Mind, Change Your Life, this is sort of along the same lines? But honestly CYMCYL may never be finished due to the...insanity...that U.S. politics became. I couldn't keep up with it. I could not make any of it make sense anymore. I may -- no promises -- pull it at some point this coming winter and rewrite it, but...I just don't know. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. No promises on when Part Two will come out, but I am at least already working on it.
> 
> Excelsior,  
> Marbles


End file.
